C O N T E X T 1 3 6 : S E P T E M B E R 2 0 1 4 51 those seen at Lowther: measured intervention in a manner that will both respect what was there at the start, and offer the opportunity for its survival and renewal, even if here it takes the character and form of a living city rather than a ruined castle. Scales may be cosmically different, as are methodologies and tools, for Dundee is an example of master planning. But the aesthetic fundamentals, to those schooled in the IHBC’s approach, are absolutely consistent with conservation. Informed decisions are being made on the loss of extant and historic fabric and its replacement, all with a view to finding a viable future for the whole while retaining what can viably survive. How can we express the way in which work offers an aesthetic experience that is consistent with Gardner’s approach? The Vitruvian framework for assessing the art of architecture might be also brought into use for conservation. His ‘firmness, commodity and delight’ is easily recast in modern terms as ‘sturdy, useful and beautiful’.Yet these terms can offer at least a starting position for a conservation aesthetic that can express the common grounds across the diversity of conservation practice represented above. A transliteration of Vitruvian aesthetics into our conservation script might go as follows. For firmness and sturdiness, read ‘sustainable’, because that offers continuity of the fabric in a manner consistent with the holistic perspectives of the 21st century. For commodity or usefulness, think ‘practicality’, as that underpins longterm viability based on continued use. For delight or beauty, perhaps (for want of a better word) consider ‘elegance’, although ultimately the differences may be moot. Might we reasonably adopt as the foundation for our conservation aesthetic these terms, inspired by Vitruvius, of sustainable, practical and elegant? At Lowther, although still in many ways a work in progress, the elegance of the solutions is undeniable, while the most sustainable and useful outcomes for the fabric have been achieved, as far as circumstances allow, at least, given that the conservation work was focused on the consolidation of a ruin. Such aesthetically satisfying outcomes are not as yet evident at Dundee, perhaps, as it is a work in progress. But their roots are firmly planted: innovative partnerships with artistic and healthrelated institutions, and with businesses and the public sector; considered contextual understanding shaping what is new; and, for planners mostly perhaps, the sense that all the options, including both potentials and pitfalls, are continually under consideration, review and evaluation – and always with an open mind to delivering a great and sustainable place that remains intellectually, practically and visually Dundee. That is probably all anyone can do when dealing creatively with a project of that scale and complexity, so for many that groundwork secures its creative success. Of course, when looking at that kind of process, conservation is no more only about intervention than making a film is only about the final flicker on the screen.While the visual expression of interventions may be the most obvious inspiration for an aesthetic enjoyment of conservation, the aesthetic enjoyment of conservation can be induced by the imaginative linkages, combinations and associations in place in Dundee. That sort of process, as I have noted previously in this column, bears comparison with bricolage as a modern creative activity, with roots in Dada, as it relies on found features. All that potential for creativity still represents only one overarching element in the aesthetic of conservation. Another consideration is the honesty and truth in the expression of conservation which, through Keats, brings us to beauty. As others have observed this so well, all we need do here is note again its contribution to a genuine conservation aesthetic and, by extension, a genuine discipline. Even more, for the initiated, there are as well the different aesthetic moods or variations to be enjoyed in conservation practice: minimal intervention, reversibility and interpretation, to mention a few. Critically, these are not barriers to creativity or the aesthetic experience. Rather they are conservation threads in their own right, consistent across the disciplines and coming together, as warp and weft, in what we may confidently recognise as the tapestry of conservation. The last word on the art of conservation – and how its aesthetic enjoyment directs us to a coherent philosophy and a recognisable discipline – should go to our members and their colleagues who attended the 2014 annual school. They found there a clear aesthetic appreciation in their engagement with an art of conservation across a hugely diverse range of practice and thinking.You will sense some of that enjoyment emanating from this issue of Context. This year, however, you can also get the sensurround experience of their aesthetic enjoyment – and even hear their voices, if you go to the right place – in the extraordinary records generated by our support for digital media there, also reported on in this issue and to be found on our website resources. These capture the commonality of delegates’ experience of the art of conservation at first hand. They offer the most substantial evidence that our traditional built and historic environment disciplines can be woven into a tapestry that expresses a recognisable, real and true art of conservation. Seán O’Reilly, director@ihbc.org.uk
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